Free The Broken Bell by Frank Tuttle

I’d know when they were out. Second, because the Old Ruth might get one or more of them killed, and if it does they’ll lay that at my doorstep too. Third, because I might just convince them to forget this whole mess and head back home owing me a favor, instead of coveting my head.”
    “Foolishness, boy. Them Sprangs will turn on ye the instant the jail doors open.”
    “If that happens there’s the Watch. If the Sprangs go in again, they won’t be getting out anytime soon, bail or not. You know that.”
    “Do you drink a lot at night, boy? Have you taken up weed? Bailing the Sprangs out is the damn stupidest thing I’ve heard in a long time, and you’ll get nothing but trouble if you do.”
    “It was just a thought, Mama.”
    “Well then, you need to keep on thinking. Or give it up entirely, I ain’t sure which.”
    From the back came a sneeze and the sound of a thin, hard bed creaking.
    “Well, we’re in for it now,” whispered Mama.
    Buttercup appeared at my knee, smiling and rubbing sleep out of her eyes.
    “Good morning, Miss.” I tousled her hair and poked her gently on the tip of her nose. I pulled her doll out of my pocket and handed it back to her. She accepted it solemnly, her banshee eyes suddenly serious. “Thanks. Someone snores like a big girl.”
    She stuck out her tongue and yawned.
    Gertriss popped out of her door, not smiling. Her hair was a tumble, and she had dark circles under her eyes. I decided I would most certainly neither tousle her hair nor poke at her nose.
    She was enveloped in an enormous nightgown that must have started life as a mainsail on a frigate. Her bare toes only peeped out when she walked. I caught Mama glaring at her red-painted toenails.
    “Good morning.” I decided to keep things friendly. “Hope you slept well.”
    Gertriss managed a nod and shuffled off to Mama’s tiny kitchen, groaning as she went. From out of sight came the sounds of cups rattling and sugar being spooned.
    Buttercup pulled my cup down and stole a sip of my coffee.
    “Fie!” snapped Mama. Buttercup giggled and skipped away, vanishing before reappearing behind Mama with her fingers waggling beside her ears.
    Gertriss reappeared, bleary-eyed, sipping coffee and shuffling. “Morning, boss.”
    I nodded. “Mama says the Hoogas didn’t bash any heads last night.”
    “If they did they were quiet about it. Boss, how long can you afford to pay them? Wouldn’t it be cheaper just to buy a door and put a bar on the inside?”
    Mama puffed up. “I ain’t havin’ no garrison gate on the front of my establishment. Makes the clients feel nervous.”
    “And ogres don’t?”
    “Shows what you know. Business will double today just to get a up-close look at ’em. Bah.” With that, Mama rose and hustled off to her kitchen, dragging Buttercup along by one of her long ears.
    “I heard what you said about paying out the Sprangs,” said Gertriss in a whisper. “Sounds like a good idea to me.”
    “It does? I imagined you’d be on Mama’s side.”
    “She has a point. I’m not saying she doesn’t. But knowing where they are is also a point. And as pigheaded as they are, getting them out of the Old Ruth might be the only way to get them to listen. Too, I’ve got money saved. I might not be able to pay all of it, but I can do half.”
    “I’m not asking you to do that.”
    “I know. I appreciate that. But I’m insisting. And you know how Hog women can be when we don’t get what we want.”
    I sighed. “Deal. We split it. But we make it conditional to the Sprangs—they leave Rannit, no loitering, no sightseeing, no sneaking back here with clubs. And we have the Watch witness it all, so the Sprangs get tossed back in the Old Ruth if they break the terms of release.”
    Gertriss pushed a wild tangle of golden hair out of her eyes and nodded. “I think it’s a good idea, boss. Cheaper than ogres, in the long run.”
    “Ha!” snapped Mama from the back.
    I laughed. “Fine. Look. Until